


A Nap

by RhianthiAlritak



Series: Plural Crowley AU [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Author has a Dissociative Disorder, Autistic Aziraphale (Good Omens), But in a mental health way, Crowley (Good Omens) Has OSDD-1B, Crowley (Good Omens) has ADHD, Genderfluid Character, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, No Smut, Other, This is just softness tbh, Time to meet Jo, and Gaderel, less briefly, very briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22890832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhianthiAlritak/pseuds/RhianthiAlritak
Summary: Sometimes when you're sleeping, other people have things to do.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Plural Crowley AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645378
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	A Nap

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly just an introduction to Gaderel, who is my son.

Crowley is flowing, fluid and serpentine in all things. They’re always Crowley, but sometimes being Crowley means being a man or a woman or being something in between or something completely unrelated.

Sometimes, very rarely, it means being none of these things at all.

Ashtoreth is stoic, static. She’s a constant unchanging thing. A woman both willing and able to stand unmoving against the currents of time.

If you asked someone unfamiliar with the pair, someone who perhaps had met both only in passing, they would likely say, without any doubt in their mind, that Crowley and Ashtoreth are the same person behaving in two distinct ways. And physically, that’s true. They’re one body, physically. One being. But they’re not the same. There are significant differences between Crowley and Ashtoreth that only become more obvious the longer you know the demons. And no one knows that better than Aziraphale.

Ashtoreth isn’t the only person to share a corporation, a body, a brain, a mind, an essence, a _soul_ with Crowley; only the most present. There are four or five others that Aziraphale can name off the top of his head. There’s Gaderel, the one Crowley affectionately refers to as ‘the kid’, small and childlike, easily startled, always ready to strike. He’s not a child, he can’t be, if only because Crowley has never been a child. But he’s wary and worried and sharp as a knife. Curious and clever as sin. He seems to soften around Aziraphale, on the rare occasions they’ve met.

Nahas is another, more animalistic than the others. She slips into their serpentine form with a frequency Aziraphale isn’t quite accustomed to. Crowley generally likes to remain decidedly human shaped. Nahas on the other hand, does not. She shifts immediately upon taking the reins and coils up, a pool of iridescent scales, and just watches.

There’s Jo with their sharp words and constant vigilance. Protective and focused. A wall against the world. They solve problems as though that’s their purpose, their reason for existing. They’re a guardian, a defender, and the others are their charge.

There’s Raphael, who takes over in moments of crisis, who draws far more power than he reasonably should be capable of.

And then, finally, finally, there’s the one without a name. Aziraphale has only met that one once or twice in all the years he’s known the demon, but he is certain that he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like the way it treats the others, and he doesn’t like the way it treats _Crowley_.

Crowley shifts slightly in his sleep, moving his body so that instead of curling tightly in on himself, he’s stretched out, long and lanky. His spine makes a slight popping sound, something that Aziraphale knows the demon would grumble about if he were awake. Instead he lets out a low whine with just an edge of a hiss. One golden eye opens just enough to look at Aziraphale and- oh. Not Crowley then. He offers the demon a soft smile. “You’re safe, Jo. Back to sleep with you.”

They stare at him for a moment, flick out their tongue to scent the air, grumble something too soft for him to hear and close their eye again. The demon curls back up just as tightly as before and lets out a sigh. They do this sometimes, these halfway conscious switches. Most of his interactions with Jo are like this, with them coming forward to keep watch while Crowley rests. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to the demon’s temple. “Sleep well, beloved. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

* * *

Except it’s not Crowley who pads into the kitchen rubbing sleep from his eyes. Gaderel is staring at him, arms crossed in front of his chest, brow furrowed.

“Gaderel, dear. Is everything alright with Crowley?”

Gaderel cocks his head to the side, seemingly deep in thought, then nods. “Jus’ tired…” he mumbles.

“Do you think he’ll be back today?”

“Prolly…” he rubs at his eyes again. “Sleepy. You weren’t there.”

“Ah,” says Aziraphale. He walks over and places his hand against the small of the fledgling’s back, guiding him back towards the stairs. “Let me get something to read then, and we’ll get you back to bed, yes?”

Gaderel nods again. He chews at his lower lip. “He loves you,” he says, sudden and decisive.

Aziraphale chuckles softly and grabs the nearest book without bothering to look at the title. “I should hope so,” he says. “We are married.”

Another little nod from the fledgling. “You’re safe. Love him. Don’t try to make us go away.”

Aziraphale laughs again. “You’ve been with him for longer than I have. You’re part of the deal. Come along now, back to bed.” Gaderel slinks up the stairs followed closely by the angel. He looks back a few times to ensure he’s being followed. Aziraphale nods to him and he slips under the covers. The angel settles beside him and brushes his fingers through his hair. “Back to sleep dear.”

* * *

Finally, several hours later and on Aziraphale’s second read of the mass market paperback, Crowley stirs again. He stretches out, groaning when his spine pops. “Mornin’ angel.”

Aziraphale sets his book on the bedside table and smiles at him. “There you are, I’ve missed you.”

Crowley sits himself up and rolls his shoulders. “They cause you too much trouble?”

“Not at all,” he says before pressing a kiss to the demon’s lips. “Just Jo and Gaderel, no trouble at all.”

Crowley nods. “That’s alright then. Kid didn’t get into trouble, did he?”

“Really, dearest. Do you have no faith in them not to create problems?”

“Jo’s good,” Crowley says. “Never created a problem Jo couldn’t fix. Worry about the kid though.” 

“He’s perfectly well behaved!”

“I know, angel. S’why I worry. Leave the two of you alone together too long, s’no telling what kind of trouble you’d get up to. Can’t have you and my body running around doing good deeds.” He waves a hand theatrically. “Destroy my reputation, you would.”

“Of course, love,” Aziraphale says in that fondly exasperated way of his. Crowley grins and leans up against him.

“S’true,” he mutters happily into the skin at Aziraphale’s neck. "'m a Demon. Can't let you and a fledgling make everyone think I'm _sweet_." 

Aziraphale laughs. "Whatever you say, Crowley. Whatever you say."


End file.
